


Snow Globe

by PunkCh1ld



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Claudia Stilinski Memories, Claudia Stilinski's Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magic, Sad Stiles Stilinski, Snow Globe, Sweet Derek Hale, Werewolves, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-07 03:11:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8780833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkCh1ld/pseuds/PunkCh1ld
Summary: After attending his Mother's funeral, Stile's finds himself up in the attic looking through the boxes of her stuff.When he finds a box of snow globes, he thinks nothing of it, knowing how much she loved to collect all sorts of things.Little did he know that each snow globe held a special memory of Claudia's inside.





	1. Chapter 1

The door rattled with the force of being slammed shut, Sheriff Stilinski stood on the other side frowning, at a lost for what to do next.

They both knew this day would come yet it was still a slap to the face.

John sighed, trudging over to the kitchen to pour himself a much needed glass of whiskey.(Or six) He decided to give his son at least one day to cool off before trying to talk to him.

~

The ladder groaned in distress as it was put to use for the first time in years, creaking and bending slightly even under Stiles' featherlight weight. His hands searched blindly for the light switch, turning it on before actually stepping up the last rung and into the cluttered attic.

 

Just being here; in one of the only areas of the house that was strictly her domain, had his emotions waging war on themselves. 

On one hand his chest felt tight like he knows he's doing something he shouldn't. Being here almost feels like he's contaminating the only place left that's still completely hers with his mere presence. 

On the other hand, it feels easier to breathe up here in the dusty attic, filled with all her things and the faint smell of her perfume clinging to the walls. Surrounded by her lingering presence.

The contradicting feelings made Stiles' head hurt. He crouched down beside the first box he saw and notices it was full of photo albums. Picking one up, he flipped through the endless amount of humiliating baby pictures of him but his lips twitched despite him cringing inwardly.

The next box had different pottery vases in it, some brightly painted, some the original clay color and some didn't even resemble a vase at all. He knew those were the ones his mum made when she took pottery lessons. Safe to say it wasn't her niche. 

Stiles' had managed to get through four more boxes before his eyes began to droop. 

The last box he'd only halfheartedly looked at before calling it a day sat atop the others precariously, swaying a bit before finally tipping too far one way. Stiles made quick work of catching it before it fell, pushing it back up but not before something fell out of it.

He picked up the fallen snow globe, watching in a sleepy haze as the snow cascaded around the wolf figurine in the middle and catching on the branches of the plastic forest.

It was peaceful to look at, made stile's feel safe and warm for some reason so he kept a tight grip on it on his way down the ladder, when he curled up in his bed and drifted off to sleep and it was still clutched tightly come morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment of what you would like to see more of in future chapters and also where are you from? :)

Days passed until it had already been a week since Claudia's funeral but Stiles didn't take notice of much these days, the day of the week was brushed under the rug of things that no longer mattered along with school, making sure his dad eats healthy and pretty much everything else he used to care so much about.

The tension in the air was still thick ever since the sheriff came into Stiles' room and told him that what he was doing wasn't healthy. According to him, Stiles was using his Mother's belongings as a way to replace her and avoid grieving.

"What bullshït!" Stiles had cried, outraged.

Nothing could replace his Mother, especially inanimate objects, of course Stiles knew that and for his Father of all people to think that, had Stiles seeing red. 

Since that day, Stiles has holed himself in his room, only leaving when absolutely nessecary which meant only for food and the bathroom.

Today was the day he decided to venture back up into the attic and explore more boxes but when he got up there, everything had been moved around. The boxes he had already looked at were no longer there and the rest were stacked near the door.

The floor would be bruised if it was possible by how hard Stiles was stomping to the living room where he found his dad taping up a box. When he turned around, his face paled as soon as his eyes met Stiles'

"I can ex-" the sheriff started but was cut of by a livid Stiles.

"She's dead dad! She's gone and now you want to take her things away from me too?!"

"Son, it's not like that. Please, I'm only trying to help you because what you're doing now isn't ok and I'm not going to stand by and watch my only kid destroy himself over something neither of us can change." 

John's voice trembled, his eyes filled with tears as he wearily makes his way towards his son, bringing him into a crushing when Stiles makes to attempt to move away.

After a good twenty minutes of just letting out all his tears and apologies, John pulls away only to place a piece of paper in Stile's hand. Before he can even ask, John is already explaining.

"I'm not getting rid of anything, just putting it in storage for now until we can build ourselves back up. I-in her will, your mum she, um, she wrote that she wanted me to do this and I agree that it's for the best but she also left that note in one of those boxes for you so you keep that one and we can look through the rest at a later date alright son?"

Stiles nods numbly, his father's voice sounding far away as he unfolds the letter.

Stiles,

Your Father just told me what's been happening to me and that it's only going to keep getting worse so I'm writing this to you while I still remember you all. 

I'm so sorry you have to see me like this and I'm so sorry I won't be there to help you get through this but just know that I love you so very much and there is not one single thing I regret since you came into our lives. 

You and your dad are going to have to help each other out through this okay? I know you can get through this son, you've been through much worse.

Every one of my most treasured memories includes you Stiles so I want you to have a reminder of each one with you forever which is why I want you to take great care of my snow globes. They're yours now.

In time you'll understand why they mean so much to me.

I love you so much sweetheart!

Love,

Mum.

 

~

 

There were 10 snow globes in total, all sitting neatly in a row on his shelf.

The first one was of the wolf in the forest he had cradled in his sleep last night.

Another one of a wolf but this time a pup that was crouched in a playful way with his hind legs still upright, chewing on the sleeve of a red hoodie.

One was of what looks to be a game of lacrosse, one team wearing the Beacon Hills Highschool colours. He wondered how much these costed? It was obvious after seeing that one that they were custom made.

The next one he picked up had a toy police badge with a group of little police men figurines surrounding it.

As Stiles pulled out the next one he was confused by its size. While all the others were regular sized globes, this one was tiny and connected to a necklace, it held a tiny red fox inside which felt familiar to Stile's for some reason. The coolness of the chain against his neck was comforting, as if it was always meant to be there.

 

The next three consisted of places and buildings he doesn't recognise; A park, what looks like some kind of city made from Lego. And a plain grey building with a Red Cross and silhouette of a dog for its logo. Stiles' assumes it's a vet or something but they've never had any pets that he can think of so why would that be one of his mums most important memories?

His lips stretched into a pained smile as he started at the next globe. He remembers this day as if it were yesterday. The details in the figurines and even the background was seriously impressive. The way the artist captured the sadness that weighed his best friend's shoulders down, to the tears forming in both their eyes was impeccable. It was the day he had to say goodbye to Scott as his asshole of a Father won custody against Melissa because she worked to many hours which supposedly means she's not capable of raising a child on her own despite the fact HE was the reason they were going through a divorce in the first place. If it wasn't for his alcohol addiction and foul temper, Stiles would still have his best friend.

But it was as he pulled out the very last one that he let his tears that had pooled, finally track their way down his face.

His mum lying in what could only be a hospital bed, writing something, this letter perhaps. Although you couldn't see the face of the person beside her, it was obvious Stiles was looking at himself sitting on the chair with his head resting on her thigh, one hand gripping onto her frail one. 

He's pretty sure, dispite sleeping most of that day, that this was the day she died. But how could that be? If she died that day how could the artist who made these have known what to sculpt? His mum wouldn't have been able to tell them because the days leading up to that dreadful time, she couldn't remember anything or anyone, couldn't even speak a coherent sentence.

With a resigned sigh, he crawled into bed. They were only a few of the many questions he had that would never be answered

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be random!


End file.
